Science fiction and prediction
by Rob - August 1st, 2006.Filed under: Uncategorized.
Over at Meme Therapy, they have this Brain Parade going on, exploring this topic:
Science fiction isn’t a predictive tool. Do you agree with that statement? And if so why do we fuss over plausibility in science fiction?
The question is illustrated with the picture above of a Star Trek communicator — but there’s no commentary about the communicator. It’s become the iconic symbol of how SF sometimes gets it right, because some cell phones flip open.
But that’s crap, and grasping at straws to prove we got one right. The lid on the communicator was an antenna; today’s cell phones have internal antennae. Cellphones often reside in purses and pockets; surely the real inspiration for hinged cellphones are the other hinged things that already live in there: a wallet, a woman’s compact, a business-card case.
(If cell phones were really supposed to mimic Star Trek communicators, they’d flip open with the same wrist movement that Captain Kirk always used — but they don’t.)
Science fiction isn’t about prediction; it’s about the here-and-now. That said, plausibility — this could be, as opposed to this might be — does add to science fiction’s moral authority to make comments on the here and now.
Back during the 2000 US presidential elections, everywhere you went, people were talking about how the election was going to turn out. If you were at a party and someone said, “You know, if George W. Bush wins, I think his economic strategy is going to be …,” you might lean in and listen.
And if somebody else said, “Yeah, but if Al Gore wins, his foreign policy might be …,” you might also lend an ear.
But when some raving lunatic in the corner says, “Listen, Ralph Nader’s going to take this race, and when he gets into the Oval Office, he’s going to …,” you tune that guy right out, because what he had to say had no chance at all of becoming reality.
It’s the same with the prediction in science fiction. If you want to talk about gender politics, or race relations, or the abortion issue, or world peace, or anything else of contemporary interest through a science-fictional lens, the infrastructure on which you set your morality play benefits from at least appearing to be plausible. But we don’t say George Orwell was a lousy science-fiction writer because his version of 1984 turned out to be nothing like the way the real year 1984 was; instead, we rightly laud him for getting us thinking about a possible future, and making mid-course corrections to (mostly) end up avoiding that future from becoming a reality.